


Once Again, My Love

by fitslikeakey



Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: AU?, F/M, Future-fic, Savannah attempts fluff, Stars on Ice 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-24
Updated: 2018-07-24
Packaged: 2019-06-15 10:53:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15411339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fitslikeakey/pseuds/fitslikeakey
Summary: Scott notices something is different. Tessa's not so sure about it.(Or, how reasonably tired can one be during Stars on Ice? Inquiring minds want to know.)





	Once Again, My Love

**Author's Note:**

> I'm enjoying my retirement, but I thought you all might enjoy this headcanon turned fic. You may direct your complaints to justtotallyplatonic and fairwinds09, they did this to me.

The first time he notices something is off is during sex, if he’s being honest.

Stars on Ice is keeping them busy, even though it’s significantly less pressure than the Thank You Canada Tour had been the fall before, so it’s been a few days for them. It’s more pressure for Tessa, of course- she’s trying to work on her new Hillberg and Berk line while touring, and their manager is tossing around the idea of an all-out fashion line that’s interested to see what she can do, so she’s spent most of their free mornings and afternoons tied to her laptop, a phone pressed to her cheek and a never ending mug of coffee on the desk in the hotel room.

All in all, she’s been exhausted, throwing herself onto their king bed every night with an over-exaggerated sigh and falling asleep mere minutes later, leaving Scott to browse his phone with the brightness turned down and to watch the TV on mute. He could go out, he knows, knows she’s never faulted him for having a good time, but these days the idea of crowded pubs and flirtatious women and too much beer sounds far less appealing than having his beautiful partner sleeping softly on his chest.

Tonight, though, had been different. There’d been a glint in her eyes from the second they’d skated onto the ice for their first solo number, and it had stayed there through the final bows, her hand gripping his tightly as the headed back to the dressing rooms, even holding on for a minute after he’d tried to let go to enter the guys’ room. “Don’t leave me,” she’d whispered, her eyes fluttering, and he’d had to force himself away to remove his skates and change back into the sweats he’d worn into the rink that afternoon. “Later,” he’d said back in a low voice, and his hand had brushed across her front as he’d pushed through the door.

That’s how he ends up on his back in a hotel in Ottawa, Tessa leaning over him and completely bare, her eyes dark and her lips wet. “I’ve missed you,” she says, and he knows exactly what she means even though it’s been weeks since they were apart for more than a few hours.

“I’ve missed you too, Virtch,” he responds with a grin, and then she’s lowering herself onto him, and it really doesn’t matter whether it’s been a few days or if they were last together this morning, because when her eyes start to roll back, he wonders how he ever spends time doing anything else. And then she’s rocking up and down on him, her eyes shut and her hair strewn around her shoulders. He barely holds in a groan when he notices her breasts bouncing up and down in time with her movement, taking a moment to gather his wits before he flips them over.

Tessa lands on the bed with a soft _ouf_ , whimpering softly when he lifts her leg over his shoulder and starts moving inside her again. Her hands are in his hair, tugging, begging, and that’s when he bends down, gliding his teeth across her breast, just the way she likes it.

“Ow!” She squeaks, and he freezes.

“Tess?”

She looks perplexed. “Why did you do that?” She asks. “I didn’t like it.”

He furrows his eyebrows, and she’s starting to shift again, but he holds her still. “Tess, I’ve been doing that to you since you were nineteen. You love it. What are you talking about?”

“You’ve never done anything that hurt me before,” Tessa says, her hips straining, eager to move on. His hand starts to drift down her waist. “Just-don’t do it like that again, okay?”

“Okay,” Scott says, already distracted by her hands scratching roughly at his back. It’s several days before the odd exchange occurs to him again.

 

* * *

 

 

In London, they hold to tradition and stay at their house after the show. “Yeah, the work I’m doing during the days is really wearing me out, I don’t know if I’ve ever been so tired during Stars on Ice before,” she says to her mom, starting to clear out the dishes from the dinner that Alma had made them.

“You’re not as young as you used to be, hon,” Kate responds. “Between the tour last fall and planning the wedding and all your work with the new line, it’s a wonder you’re in bed before 2 am.”

“Nine-thirty, lately,” Scott comments off-handedly from the table, where he’s still sitting with Alma and Joe. “Haven’t seen T in bed that early since we stopped doing daily trips to Waterloo, honestly.”

“Are you feeling okay?” Alma asks, worried.

Tessa smiles back at her. “I’m okay,” she answers. “Just a little overworked. But Scott’s been taking good care of me, like always.”

“Moir boys are good ones to have around,” Alma sighs, “I remember when I was about your age, I was pregnant with Charlie, and working at the rink, trying to keep myself safe, and Joe brought me something special every day during my first trimester because I was always so exhausted at the end of the day. I don’t think my energy levels went back up until….well, until Scotty moved out, probably,” she says with a laugh.

Tessa is unaffected. “I can’t imagine,” she says sympathetically. “It’s a good thing we’re not there yet, I mean honestly, can you even picture trying to manage a baby around everything that’s going on with us right now?”

His head jerks toward hers, and the terrified expression in his eyes must seem like a joke, because she laughs, and the parents do too, but all of a sudden he’s remembering the last couple weeks and Tessa’s strange moods. _Pregnant_ , the word echoes through his head, but he shakes it off, because he’s being unreasonable, of course, Tessa can’t be pregnant. 

“I can’t imagine,” he says finally, and he tries to force the thought out of his head. It doesn’t work.

 

* * *

 

 

The morning of the show in Saskatoon, they’re supposed to be meeting up with the rest of the cast, and Tessa can barely get out of bed. “Stomach cramps,” she gets out, “bad ones…like…like I feel like I’m about to throw up, bad.”

“We’ll stay here,” Scott says immediately, already putting the hanger back on his jacket. “I’ll order you a diet coke, the carbonation will help…”

“No, don’t worry about me,” she insists. “It just happened in the last few minutes, when I first woke up, I was fine. It will probably go away just as quickly, maybe I can even meet you there.”

“Tess…” he scolds, but she shakes her head, gathering her strength and sitting up so she can kiss him softly on the lips.

“I love you,” she says, softly, firmly.  Her eyes are swirling with admiration. “You don’t always have to take care of me, you know. I can manage a little while.”

“But I want to,” he protests, gently pushing her back to her pillow, not missing the cringe of her smile as she adjusts her torso.

He reluctantly puts his jacket on again. “Hey, T?” He asks, trying to sound casual as he steps back from the bed.

“Yeah?”

“You’ve been a little out of sorts lately.”

“I know,” she frowns. “I’ll call JF and Scotty, I’ve been feeling a little weird, maybe I’ve picked up a bad habit or a bug or something.”

“Do you think it’s possible you could be…you know?”

She’s looking adorably confused and he has to fight to stay focused. “I could be what? I’m just a little under the weather, I’ll be good as new as soon as we get through this tour and I’ve got a chance to get a little more sleep.”

“Tess, you were in bed at eight last night.”

“Yeah, because I was tired!”

“I…” he stops to clear his throat, moving back to her and dropping to his knees by her side so he can look her in the eyes and take her hand. “Tessa, is it possible that you could be pregnant?” She bursts into laughter. “Why is that funny?”

“You just…you looked so serious, and I almost thought…of course I’m not pregnant, Scott, do I look like I’m anywhere near ready to have a baby right now? You were kidding, right?”

He stares at her for a moment. “Kidding,” Scott echoes reluctantly, but he’s nowhere near convinced now.

 

* * *

 

 

“Danny,” he says nervously.

“Scott,” Danny echoes, his tone teasing. “Were you going to get to the point of this phone call any time soon? I’m at the station, you know. You could be putting lives at risk and you’re all comfortable in your snazzy hotel room with your girl.”

Actually, Scott’s sitting in an uncomfortable modern sofa in the lobby. It’s late, too late, and if Scott _hadn’t_ known that Danny was at the station he wouldn’t have called, but as it is, he’s awake and probably too shot up with caffeine, so he’s about in the same boat as Scott’s been for the past seventy-two hours.

“When you and your Tessa, when you first thought about…..I mean did you know first, or did she? Was it a surprise? I sort of remember it being a surprise.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“I know you wanted them and all, but I guess what I’m asking is if they sort of sprung up on you, or if maybe you knew it before she did, is that normal? It doesn’t seem normal, or if I should just trust her, and was she moody? She seems a little too moody…” He’s panicking, and he knows Danny will be able to tell.

“Scott,” Danny says, his voice deep. “Stop for a minute. Breathe.” He takes a deep breath. “Can you try to explain it again? Maybe use fewer words?”

“I-think-my-Tessa-might-be-pregnant.”

“You knocked up Tutu?” Danny exclaims, and Scott’s positive the entire lobby can hear him.

“ _No_!” He pauses, scanning the room for any of his fellow cast members and finding none. “Maybe- I don’t know, I…” His head drops in his lap. “Oh God, I might have knocked up T.”

“You sound shocked,” Danny comments drily. “I assure you, no one else is shocked.”

“ _Danny_ ,” Scott protests, “T might be pregnant and she won’t admit it and I’m kind of freaking out here, okay?” 

“Okay, calm down, buddy. If she says she’s not pregnant, she’s probably right, you know? Just keep looking out for her, she’ll be fine.”

“She’s not letting me,” Scott answers grumpily. “She’s convinced that she’s just overly tired, but she’s not, Danny, I’ve seen that girl make it months on four hours of sleep a night and still look perfect every day, this is different.”

“I know,” Danny sighs. “But I know you, too, and you’re going to keep trying, aren’t you? You’ve been practicing for this your whole life.”  Scott is silent. “You can do this, little brother. Whether Big Hands is preggers or not.”

Danny’s words are still echoing in his head the next morning when she’s halfway dressed and rushing to the toilet, heaving up whatever is left of the burger she’s been strangely craving and practically inhaled the night before. Scott doesn’t say a word, just pulls her new Adidas jacket out of the way and tugs her hair behind her, running his fingers through it gently as she sits in front of the toilet bowl, waiting for something to come out.

No, he doesn’t say anything then, or three days later when she throws up in the middle of the afternoon in Edmonton. It’s the third time, nearly a week and a half after she’d started feeling sick, that he has the guts to bring it up again.

“Tess,” he whispers, rubbing her back, his ass freezing on the cold tile of the hotel room bathroom. “Tess, baby, I really think you might be…”

She instantly flips her head over to him, her skin looking almost green. “I’m sick, Scott. I’m not pregnant.” Her eyes are flashing.

He’s sure, now.

 

* * *

 

 

“Scott, _drop it,_ ” she hisses, walking down the hallway toward the dressing room in Victoria.

“No,” he retorts, his hand refusing to leave her back even as she swats at his arm to try to push him aside.

“Can we talk about this after the show tonight? Please?”

“ _No_ ,” he says again, his voice growing louder and more frustrated. When they curve around to the guys’ room, there’s Jeff, a puzzled look on his face.

“Are you guys okay?” He asks slowly, eyes darting between them. “I haven’t heard you that angry in a long time.”

“Yes,” Tessa insists as Scott shakes his head firmly, taking a protective stance slightly in front of her. She moves out of his way quickly, and Scott tenses up further.

“No, Tessa is not okay,” Scott snaps. “She’s being ridiculous and I’m just trying to do my job and take care of her and she’s making that very difficult at the moment.”

“Can you maybe table it until after the show tonight?” Jeff asks.

“No. We can’t skate tonight,” he says firmly, taking Tessa’s hand.

“Of course we’re skating tonight, Scott, there are people here who paid money to see us, and we’re going to perform for them.” She doesn’t drop his hand, but she digs her nails into his palm, making him wince.

“Not with those lifts, not a chance.” He shakes his head firmly.

“Scott. Tessa.” Jeff says calmly, though he appears to be a bit shocked. “Would either one of you mind telling me what the hell is going on?”

“We can’t skate tonight,” Scott repeats. “Not if Tessa might be…” he cuts himself off when she subtly reaches back with her free hand and pinches him in the ass, hard. “Might be sick,” he finishes awkwardly.

“He’s just overreacting because I threw up this morning. Once. I’m fine, Jeff.” She says, giving him a look of irritated exasperation.

Jeff looks back at him. “If she says she’s fine, Scott, I have to believe her, you guys can go on.”

“ _Hell_ no,” Scott shoots back. “I won’t skate with her. Not tonight. If she wants to skate, she can do it by herself. Dock my pay, kick me off the show, whatever. I’m not doing it when she’s…. sick.”

Jeff sighs. “I can’t force him, Tessa.”

“Fine,” she replies angrily. “I’ll just go back to the hotel then and wait for my fiancé to tell me it’s okay to go out in public, or drive, or _whatever_.” Then she spins on her heel and walks away, ending the conversation.

Scott looks back at Jeff, suddenly apologetic. “We’ll do whatever we need to to make it up to Victoria, but I should probably…”

“Go,” Jeff says, waving him off. “Fix it, please. I’ve been invited to a wedding in two months that I’d really like to actually be able to attend.”

He catches up with Tessa halfway down the hall, just out of earshot of the dressing rooms. “T, you know I’m right about this. You’re not- you’re not being yourself, and you’re sick, and I’m just trying to…”

“You’re being ridiculous, Scott,” she says under her breath. “I’m not pregnant, I couldn’t possibly be pregnant, we haven’t even- I mean I’ve been so busy, we haven’t slept together nearly as often as usual, and I’m taking birth control, I’m being responsible…”

“And it’s not possible that in your tired state you may have forgotten a couple days?” Scott says quietly. “Because I sure haven’t been keeping up my end of the bargain, not in months.”

Her eyes widen, but then her whole face hardens. “I’m going back to the hotel, since apparently I can’t skate tonight. Don’t follow me until you’re ready to let this go. I’m sure Chiddy will let you crash with him.”

As she walks away, Scott’s back hits the wall of the hallway, because she’s different, everything about her is different, and he can’t just be making this up, he just can’t be. She’s said herself he knows her better than she does, and she hasn’t been herself in a couple weeks now, overtired and more clumsy than usual and he usually knows when her period is about to start better than she does and it was due a week and a half ago. He checks his phone, finding a pharmacy two and a half blocks away, on the way back to the hotel. He can do this, he can at least get her to find out, he’s earned that much trust, he thinks.

And that’s when it hits him. Tessa could be pregnant, with a _baby_. With _his_ baby. He doesn’t realize he’s sliding down until he hits the ground, and then he has to bury his head in his hands, because he may be old enough, he may be committed enough, but it’s him and Tessa, and they’re only starting year two of the five year plan, and having kids was at the very end, this isn’t according to schedule at all. But then….he gulps as the thought hits him again. It’s him and Tessa. And they could be having a _baby_.

It takes him nearly an hour to make his way to the pharmacy, his thoughts in a daze. When he gets there, he’s overwhelmed by the choices- do they need a First Response? Isn’t every pregnancy test sort of a first response? Does he want digital, or non-digital? What does that _mean_ , anyway, how can it possibly work if Tessa has to pee on a digital monitor? He finally reaches up to grab one at random, and the second his fingers brush the box, he starts shaking and he drops his hand, his breathing getting heavy, because this could change _everything_.

In an instant, he just wishes Tessa were there with him, her arms around him, to calm him, stabilize him. He’s forgotten how to do it on his own, forgotten how to breathe on his own, if he’s honest, because she’s the best thing in his entire life, the absolute best thing, and she’s been taking care of him for so, so long. He straightens his back. It’s time for him to man up and return the favor.

Eventually, he grabs three different types of tests. His hands are still shaky, a stream of his mother saying _pregnant pregnant pregnant_ flying through his head like sheep, along with a voice that sounds strangely like Marina’s saying smugly _I knew you’d end up knocking her up_. He reaches the counter, where a dark-haired teenager inspects him boredly. “We get a lot of scared looking women coming in, looking at pregnancy tests,” he says slowly, not entirely interested. “Never scared looking men, though.”

Scott chooses to ignore him, instead anxiously checking his phone, hoping for a message from the only person he really cares to hear from that night, the only woman who’s ever mattered, other than his mother. He nearly throws his card over the counter, feeling like the seconds couldn’t possibly tick by any slower, and when his wallet is safely back in his pocket and his-her tests are bagged, he rushes out of the store and onto the street.

 

* * *

 

 

When he gets back to their floor of the hotel, he ignores the rules she’d set out for him, immediately heading toward their room with his purchases in hand. He slides his card through the reader, and when the lock clicks open, he thrusts the handle down, and then…

“Really, T?” He asks incredulously.

“I knew you wouldn’t listen,” he hears stubbornly. And then there’s a rustle of movement as she shifts herself off the bed and lets him in, clad in a fluffy white robe, her performance makeup gone and hair thrown up in a bun.

“And leave you alone? Never,” he swears, smiling a little, finally, because she lets him bend down and press a kiss to her lips.

She smiles back into the kiss, her hand drifting up his side and slipping around his neck. “I’m glad you decided to drop it.”

He steps back. “I didn’t…” he starts, and that’s when she notices the plastic back at his side.

“What did you get?” She asks, interested. She peeks into the bag. “Oh God, Scott, _no_.”

“Just take them,” he insists, dropping the bag onto the ground and throwing his hands up into the air. “Take them and then I’ll know for sure, and then I’ll drop it, okay? I just…I need to see it for myself.”

She groans, shaking her head at the floor for a minute, before finally sucking in a breath and looking up to inspect his face. “Do you really promise?”

“I promise, T, as soon as the stick says negative I’ll drop it.”

She stares at him for a moment, and then her eyes drop to the bag. “All right,” she says, her voice suddenly small. “I’ll take the pregnancy tests.” She picks up the back, striding over into the bathroom and shutting the door.

He moves over to the door quickly, knocking in rapid succession. “You mean I don’t get to watch?”

“It’s peeing on a stick, Scott,” comes the muffled reply. “We’re not there yet, not even us.”

Several moments later, he hears a flush. “I only took two,” he hears. “Seemed reasonable.”

“Okay,” he nods, mostly to himself, “now let me in, you have to wait a couple minutes, don’t you?” There’s silence on the other side of the door. “Tess, please?”

It’s the small voice again. “It’s three minutes, Scott,” he hears. “You can wait three more minutes for me to make fun of you.”

“I…fine,” he says eventually, trying not to push his luck. What follows are the three of the longest minutes of his life, longer than any of their programs, longer even than the time Tessa had looked him in the eyes and said _I don’t want to do this anymore_. There’s silence in the bathroom, as Tessa waits just like he does, and finally, he glances over to the alarm clock in the bedside table in the room. “That’s three minutes,” he says, sticking his fingers under the door as best he can. “Do you want to let me in now?”

There’s a shift, and he stands up, backing away from the door, but it doesn’t swing open. “Tess?” He tries.

“I can’t look,” she whispers. “I can’t.”

“Yes you can,” he hurries, “just- just open the door, Tess, we can look at it together, we can figure this out together, I could be wrong, too, you never know…” She’s quiet, and he presses himself flush against the door, hand tightly on the doorknob. “Baby, please let me in,” he whispers.

Silence.

“I-I have to do this myself, I think,” she decides, her voice high, thick.

“Okay,” he says immediately, but his heart hurts at the fear that has suddenly filled her voice. “Tessa, you’re not alone in this.”

She responds by pushing herself off the tile of the bathroom floor, dusting off her pants. She takes three steps, he thinks. “I can do this,” she says, but it’s to herself. She takes a deep breath, and Scott’s grip on the door tightens.

“ _Oh_ ,” she squeaks, and then she’s definitely crying. Her breath is uneven, she’s sniffling, and then he can hear it as her back slams against the wall just as his own had at the arena and she slides back down to the tile.

All Scott’s thoughts of pregnancy are gone. “ _Please_ ,” he begs, “T, it’s going to be okay, I love you so much.” He repeats the words like a prayer, cheek pressed against, eyes squeezed tight, wet.

It feels like a millennium passes before he hears the lock turn on the door.

“Tessa,” he gets out, his heart pounding, and the second he sees her with her face buried into her knees he’s on the ground next to her, pulling her into him, squeezing every part of her he can reach. She’s shaking, her chest heaving, and he presses her head into his chest, right over his heart.

They stay like that, every inch of him against every inch of her, breathing, calming. His shirt gets wet while she relaxes, and his hand is so twisted up in the bun on top of her head that he may never be able to pull it out again, but he doesn’t care, keeps scratching her head, rubbing her back. Finally, she sniffs again, and starts to pull her head back.

“Scott,” he hears, and that’s when he realizes that his eyes are scrunched shut. He opens them gingerly.

If you asked him twenty years later, he’d never be able to explain to you how it took an hour for his eyes to adjust to the light in the bathroom, he’d just swear that it did. All he’d remember is that his eyes had finally focused on Tessa, her eyes red and a smile the size of Jupiter on her face, holding up a piece of white plastic with a singular word printed on it, clear as day.

_Pregnant._

 


End file.
